Page 14 of Protector

It’s easy for King and Dax to forget how hard it is for me, because once they’re beyond the gates, I’m forgotten. Not forever, but for those moments of freedom.

I grew up loving Peter Pan, wishing I could live in Neverland, never actually realising that this whole time, I've been living in a completely different fairy tale.

Lost princess trapped in a tower sound familiar to you?

A car stops outside the fountain, and King, Dax, and Puck exit the car.

Puck isn’t confined to these walls either, even though ninety percent of the time he chooses to stay with me.

But today, he told me there was something he had to do, and he couldn’t wait to show me when he got back. I had no idea what it could be, but seeing him walk up the steps has my heart beating faster.

Like he knew I’d be waiting for him, he looks up to my window and winks. My cheeks flush in response, my stomach twisting into knots like it always does.

He’s not holding anything, and he doesn’t look any different, so I’m curious as to what he wanted to show me.

Unless it was all an excuse just so he felt like he could go out.

I sink onto my bed, guilt gnawing away at me. Without meaning to, I’ve trapped him just as much as I am.

With a little knock, Puck’s head appears round the doorway, but his smile drops to a frown when he sees me sulking on my bed.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He shuffles into the room, kneeling in front of me.

“You’re allowed to leave whenever you want, you know.”

“I know that,” he replies back, confusion lacing his tone. “What’s this all about?”

I take in a big sigh, embarrassed to admit it out loud.

“I just feel bad that you never really go out with King and Dax unless it’s for school. You always feel like you need to stay here with me. You don’t have to make excuses or feel bad for me.”

He laughs. A deep, throaty chuckle, and my brow furrows.

“You’re a doughnut, did you know that?”

I frown at him, and he just shakes his head.

“Firstly, I don’t feel like I need to stay here with you. I want to. Secondly, I’d never make excuses to leave you. And thirdly, are you going to stop being a grumpy git so I can show you what I’ve got?”

I lift my eyes to his, watching the humour dance in his irises, and a small smile peeks out. I nod my head eagerly and intrigued.

Leaning back onto his heels in front of me, Puck lifts the sleeve of his jumper to reveal a part of his left arm covered in clingfilm. Peeling it off slowly, he reveals a small section of ink etched into his skin that’s slightly red.

I gasp and look between his arm and his face, confused and surprised.

“But you’re only fifteen?” I say, but it sounds more like a question. You can’t get tattoos legally until you’re eighteen.

“I know,” he laughs, lifting his arm up closer for me to get a better look. “But we passed a tattoo place whilst we were in town. It looked like a shit hole, but I took my chance, and the guy didn’t even I.D. me. You should’ve seen the look on King’s face when he tried, though. It was hilarious watching him get rejected.”

But I couldn’t even laugh at what would’ve probably been the greatest moment of my life, King finally being told no, because I’d taken a better look at the new tattoo on Puck’s arm.

There are flowers scattered about near his wrist, dainty, beautiful, purple flowers and just above them, two stars, one slightly bigger than the other. But not like the conventional shape of a star. It was a drawing of a shining star, like when you squint up at the sky on a starry night and it looks like they’re sparkling.

“Purple flowers and the second star on the right,” he says quietly, whilst I admire his arm. “To remind me of my favourite girl.”

Age 15

“Purple flowers and the second star on the right.”

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